


Home Remedy

by DameRuth



Series: Jed and Friends [7]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:03:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jed's recovering from a bad cold, and Jackie takes the opportunity to have a chat.  A direct sequel to the Jed!verse fic <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/149440">”Sick Day”</a> written for my fandom stocking last year by the wonderful and long-suffering Sahiya.  Thanks again, and back at'cha!  ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Remedy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sahiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/gifts).



It was a grim, grey day, overcast and drizzling. Outside the French doors of the Tyler mansion, the garden was wet and bedraggled. The _Mark II_ , wearing the shape of a slightly off-kilter potting shed, radiated a sense of hibernation. Jed, viewing the uninviting scene from inside the house, huddled in a blanket on the sofa and tried not to be miserable.

The worst of his illness was past, the fever broken, but he still felt awful. And, to make matters worse, he was lonely. It was the middle of the day, when the Tyler mansion became nearly deserted. The Doctor had already recovered from his flu, thanks to an immune system better-adapted to this time and place, and was back at work, along with Rose and Pete. Tony was in school and Jackie was at one of her charity events – she did a lot of those, Jed gathered, particularly for women's and children's causes. He wasn't entirely sure what this latest one was about, since he hadn't said more than a dozen unavoidable words to his new sort-of mother-in-law since her blowup after learning Jed was a new full-time resident of her household.

The mansion wasn't completely empty; there were members of the housekeeping and security details still present. But they, too, had things to do, and were giving Jed a wide berth. He wasn't sure if they were avoiding his germs or trying to give him peace. Possibly both. Jed sniffled and suppressed a cough.

He was at the unpleasant stage of recovery where he was enough improved to feel restless, but not healthy enough to do anything about it. At least he was past the weakness and semi-delirium that had led to Rose finding him collapsed in the bathroom. Now that he was more rational, Jed couldn't help wincing in embarrassment whenever he thought of his behavior. It was just hard, after so many years, to truly feel that he was somewhere safe, somewhere he could finally call home.

 _Home._ He wanted this to be his home, definitely. And Rose and the Doctor wanted him as a permanent part of their lives, that was clear. But it was so sudden, and, more often than not, so strange. “Passing” temporarily in a foreign time and place was different than actually living there “for real” – something Jed has always been vaguely aware of on an intellectual level, but now it was something he was confronted with every single day. It was there in the primitive physical culture, and the (in some ways) even more primitive social culture.

 _No,_ he reminded himself, _not primitive, different._

 _Primitive,_ a sullen bit of his mind insisted, refusing to be charitable.

Jed sniffled again, and shifted on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable and failing.

 _It takes time to adjust. Like moving to another planet. You've done_ that _before, leaving the Boeshane for the Time Agency. It'll come together, you'll see,_ the optimist in his head urged.

 _That was still the 51st century,_ the sullen part of him responded. _Still modern. There was/will be more continuity between the settled human worlds then than there is between individual, piddling_ countries _here on Old Earth. I had to see that to believe it . . ._

His sense of unease and dislocation was increasing, and the sofa felt lumpier than ever. He had a growing urge to head out through the cold and damp to visit with the _Mark II_ ; a dimensionally transcendent alien timeship felt more homey than where he was. Except . . . if she was in resting mode, he wouldn't want to disturb her (like a human youngster, the Doctor said she needed downtime for growth), and if he was being honest, his body was still weak enough to make the prospect of even the short trip outside highly unpleasant. His Chula ship, now safely berthed at Torchwood, might as well be on the far side of the moon. He was hit with a wave of homesickness, and wished he could teleport himself to the cramped, familiar cockpit.

Jed sniffed again, and, since there was nobody to see, wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He might need to get some of those paper tissue-things, though it still seemed to him like nothing a person in their right mind would use to clean their nose.

The distant slam of the mansion's front door made him jump, but he forced himself to ride out the wave of adrenaline. Security would catch any threat. It was probably Jackie, home from her event.

Or, maybe, Rose or the Doctor home early . . . ? It was embarrassing how much he suddenly hoped for that.

Those hopes were dashed when the electric lights in the sitting room blazed to life, and there was a familiar gasp.

“Blimey!” Jackie said. “You gave me a fright, sitting there in the dark!”

She didn't sound genuinely upset, but Jed still winced.

“Sorry,” he said, in the froggy voice resulting from his clogged sinuses. He started to unwrap from his blanket. “I can move upstairs . . .”

“I didn't say you had to go anywhere,” Jackie said, sounding exasperated. “You just surprised me, is all. Still sick, then.”

“Yeah, still sick,” Jed affirmed. “I should probably leave so you don't catch this . . .”

“If I was going to catch it, I'd have it by now,” Jackie said, crossing the room to close the drapes over the French doors. “What with the Doctor coughing all over the house the last few days. Honestly, that man can't keep anything to himself, has to share it with the world, whatever it is.”

Jed ducked his head and couldn't help a small smile. Jackie did have a point about the Doctor. But since there wasn't anything in particular he could think of in response, he remained silent.

Jackie turned from the drapes and looked directly at Jed for the first time. Her eyebrows drew down in a frown, and Jed's smile evaporated. Of course Jackie wasn't pleased to see him, the intruder in her home.

“Um,” he said, and began wriggling out from under his blanket again, in preparation to flee before she got too annoyed.

“Here,” Jackie said in a commanding voice. “Just how sick _are_ you? You look awful!” Before Jed could react, her hand was pressed against his forehead, startling him into immobility. “Well, you aren't feverish, anyway, that's good.” She sounded genuinely relived at the latter. “Come on, let's get you into the kitchen. I know just the thing.” She held out a hand.

“Really, I can . . .”

“Kitchen!” Jackie said, in a tone of voice that would do a drill sergeant proud.

“Yes, ma'am,” Jed said, and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. He shivered a little at leaving his blanket behind on the sofa, but when he followed Jackie into the kitchen the air was blessedly warm.

He dropped into one of the chairs around the table where they'd all shared a family breakfast after his first night with Rose and the Doctor, watching meekly as Jackie bustled about, opening cupboards and setting the electric kettle to boil. She had cooks and housekeeping staff to prepare meals, but he'd noticed Jackie took great pride in being familiar with her own kitchen.

“Whenever I was sick,” Jackie said, talking as she worked, “my mum would make this for me. Strong tea, with lemon and honey. Does wonders for a cold. Or a regeneration, if you're a Time Lord,” she added, as if making a joke. Jed didn't have a clue what she was talking about, and didn't know if he should laugh or not. “Oh, and the secret ingredient,” she added, reaching into a final cabinet and pulling out what looked very much like a bottle of distilled alcohol. “A drop of rum,” she clarified, confirming Jed's suspicions. “Or, for those of us who're grown up, a bit more than a drop.” She'd prepared two cups as she was speaking, and added a healthy dollop of rum to each.

“There you go,” she said, setting a steaming cup in front of Jed before settling down across from him. “If it doesn't cure a cold right off, it'll keep you from caring about it.” She winked, and Jed smiled cautiously.

“Thank you,” he said, and took a dutiful sip. The sweet concoction soothed his raw throat on the first swallow, and the strength of it made him blink.

Jackie was watching him with a considering expression. “You're quiet, these days. Not like you were at first – you were a real chatterbox, then. And a bit of a flirt.”

“Sorry,” Jed said, by reflex.

Jackie made a face. “I wasn't looking for an apology. I just wondered what's changed. You creep around these days like you expect to have your head bitten off.”

 _That's exactly what I've been afraid of,_ Jed thought, and took another swallow of Jackie's home remedy. Yes, indeed, a cup or two of that stuff would make anyone forget they were sick, at least for a while. “I was trying not to be in the way,” he said.

Jackie sipped from her cup. “Why would you think you're in the way? It's not like we're living in a Council flat, we've got plenty of space.” Her eyes were keen and alert, and he reminded himself this was Rose's mother, and while Pete was no slouch, Rose very likely got her quick wits from both her parents.

“I . . . got the impression you weren't very happy having me here,” Jed said, trying to be both honest and diplomatic.

“Did I ever say so?” Jackie asked.

“You. Um. Had an argument with Rose and the Doctor.” he said.

Jackie huffed and sat back in her chair. “Is that what this is about? I wasn't angry with _you_ ,” she said. “I was angry with _them_.”

“About me,” Jed said, doing his best not to squirm. Arguing was probably not the best strategy, but he couldn't help it.

“No, about them always treating me like I can't _handle_ things!” she said, slapping the table for emphasis, making Jed jump. “'Don't tell Jackie!'” she continued, in what Jed took for an imitation of the Doctor's voice. “'She'll just get mad and slap someone!' It's frustrating, being treated like a child by my own family! They should have been honest, rather than letting me find out on my own and realize everyone was keeping me in the dark. I can _deal_ with things, if I'm given the chance. That's what I was really shouting about, no matter what I _said_.” She took a long, angry swig of her “cold medicine.”

“Oh,” Jed said. “I never thought to look at it that way. I can see why you'd be upset. I just . . . everything here is so different than where I'm from, I don't always know how to interpret things. Sorry.”

“Blimey, there you go again. You don't need to apologize,” Jackie said, but much more calmly than before. Her outburst seemed to have taken away a lot of her tension – or else the rum was starting to take effect. She hesitated, then asked, “Now that we're on the subject, where _are_ you from?”

“The Boeshane Peninsula, on a little planet out in the Eriadni quadrant, in the fifty-first century.”

It was Jackie's turn to be taken aback. “That is . . . far away. In more ways than one.”

Jed nodded. “Exactly. And we really aren't taught much about this era, back on Old . . . on Earth. So most of the culture is _really_ strange to me. Even the parts that seem familiar turn out to be different.”

Jackie cocked her head to one side. “Which parts?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious. In that moment, her resemblance to Rose was striking. That, along with the rum, encouraged Jed.

“Well, where I'm from, human settlements are so far apart, people like to stick together. So it's normal for grown children to bring their life partners home to live with their parents. Rose and the Doctor living here made perfect sense to me – but then I found out, in this culture, it's considered . . . weird for them not to have their own house. But I guess there are people everywhere here, so it's not the same. I just can't get over how _crowded_ it is. No wonder everyone emigrated to space.”

Jackie blinked, and looked like she was turning that bit of information over in her mind. “And, where you're from, is . . . three people normal, too?”

Jed nodded. “It's not very common – it's hard enough finding one person to be with long-term, much less two. But if you do end up with two partners, you're considered very lucky. Well, back home you are. Here, it's illegal – at least if you want to get married. Otherwise, you're just a pervert.” He took another glum sip of his cold medicine. Finding out that what he and the others shared was considered sick and wrong in this culture had been a blow.

Across the table, Jackie was silent a moment, stirring her adulterated tea. “I guess all that would be a shock,” she said then, to Jed's surprise. She sounded as if she meant it. “What about your family? If you're supposed to bring your . . . partners home with you, will they be expecting Rose and the Doctor to live with them? Some of the time, anyway?” She seemed worried by the idea.

Jed shook his head. “You generally pick one place to live. But it doesn't matter, anyway – my family's all dead.” The words came out easily, more so than he'd expected, and for the first time he realized his loss didn't hurt the same way it had in the past. The pain was still there, but it didn't overwhelm him.

Jackie's hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! I'm so sorry!” she said, and Jed could tell she meant it. Her reaction warmed him even more than the rum that was sending stealthy tendrils through his body.

“It's okay,” he said. “It was a long time ago. I was just a kid.”

He meant it as reassurance, to let Jackie know it wasn't a fresh loss, but, if anything, she looked even more upset. “You poor thing!” she said. “What happened?”

Jed shrugged. “There was – well, will be, the tenses are confusing in English – a war. We were a small, peaceful settlement. We'd always been ignored and passed over. Then . . . one day we weren't.”

Jackie reached across the table and rested her hand on Jed's. He was surprised and gratified. Very few people had ever attempted to offer comfort for his loss. “How old were you?” she asked.

“Fourteen.”

“Oh, that's just . . .!” Jackie squeezed his hand. Then, out of nowhere, she declared, “You'll always have a home here. You _and_ Rose and the Doctor.”

When Jed, stunned, didn't respond, Jackie gave his hand a little shake. “I mean it!” she said. “And I'll slap anyone who says otherwise!”

Jed couldn't help laughing. “You really did traumatize the Doctor. That's why he can't help bringing up slapping all the time.”

“And I know a good piece of leverage when I see it, so I'm not about to let him forget,” she said, and they laughed together.

“But seriously,” Jed said when they were done, turning his hand palm-up under Jackie's so he could give her hand a reciprocal squeeze, “thank you. That means a lot to me. It's been a long time since I had a place to call home.”

Jackie actually looked like she was going to cry at that, and raised her cup as a cover . . . only to look surprised. “I'm out,” she said, holding up her empty cup for Jed to see.

He looked down at his own cup. “Me, too.”

“Well,” Jackie said, switching back into kitchen mode, “I'll fix that.” She took charge of Jed's cup and swept it back to the worktop.

–

“I hope he's all right,” Rose said, waving at the security guard on duty as she and the Doctor entered the Tyler mansion through the East side door.

“He's a grown man, and a Time Agent,” the Doctor scoffed. “I'm sure he's fine. He told us he would be.”

“Yeah, well, you didn't see him in the bathroom,” Rose fretted.

The Doctor put his arm around her shoulders for a reassuring squeeze. “We'll make it up to him,” he predicted. “A massage and some coddling if he's still under the weather, or . . . something else if he's feeling better.”

Rose couldn't help laughing. “That should work, either way,” she admitted.

The Doctor started to say something, but was brought up short by distant laughter. One voice was clearly Jed's – still sounding a bit like a sick seal, but better than he'd been – and the other was . . .

“Mum? And Jed?” Rose said in wonder. So far as she knew, they hadn't been spending any time together at all, especially since Jed was trying to be unobtrusive.

“I'm hearing it, too,” the Doctor said, and together the followed the sound of laughter to the kitchen.

“No, that really _is_ what happened,” Jed was saying with a grin. “The whole hunting party was naked, and we were _running_ . . .”

Jackie, half-laughing, interjected, “It's only fair, you out hunting those poor animals!”

“'Poor animals'?! There was nothing 'poor' about them! Oh, hey, guys.” This last was directed at Rose and the Doctor. Jed smiled, and there was a slight lack of focus in his expression that, combined with the empty cups on the table, told her everything she needed to know.

“Mum! You were making your 'cold medicine' for Jed, weren't you?” she asked, accusingly.

“And wonderful stuff it is,” Jed said.

“Well, he was sick!” Jackie said.

“You weren't!” Rose said, ignoring Jed momentarily.

“Preventative measures,” Jackie said, with a prim little sniff – which she then ruined by giggling.

“I really do feel a lot better,” Jed said, and even though he was still sick and more than a bit tipsy, there was an ease in his body language that hadn't been there for a long while.

“Yeah, you're saying that now, but just wait till later,” Rose told him, but she couldn't help smiling, too. “I think it's time we got you back to bed.”

“Ooooh, _great_ idea!” Jed replied.

The Doctor laughed. “You _are_ feeling better.” He stepped around the table to help Jed up. “Come on, Casanova.”

“Gladly,” Jed leered, and Jackie rolled her eyes.

“That's enough of _that_ ,” she said firmly. “You can do as you like in your own suite, but leave the kitchen out of it.”

 _Too late,_ Rose thought guiltily, then had a moment's horrible expectation that Jed would say exactly the same thing, only out loud.

Fortunately, all Jed said was, “Yes, ma'am!” accompanied by a cheerful, if somewhat wavering, salute, as Rose and the Doctor helped him out the door.

In the hallway, Jed draped an arm around each of his partners, leaning on them more than he probably needed to. “Y' know,” he said, “it's good to be home.”

“Silly,” Rose said. “You haven't been anywhere today. Er, have you?”

“You have no idea,” Jed sighed, but he sounded happy rather than sarcastic.

“Massage,” said the Doctor, in a decisive tone. “And coddling. That's the plan for tonight.”

“S' a good plan,” Jed said. “Your plans usually are.” He yawned.

“Maybe you aren't as addled as I thought,” the Doctor said, pleased.

“'Cept when it comes to leaving Jackie out of the loop,” Jed added. “That pisses her off, an' I don't blame her.”

There was a moment of silence as the others absorbed that, during which they reached their suite.

“You two had quite the tea party, didn't you?” Rose asked, while the Doctor opened the door.

“Cold medicine party,” Jed corrected. “Fixed things right up.” He yawned as the others maneuvered him through the doorway. “Could still use that massage, though.”

“Coming right up,” the Doctor said, in his best double entendre voice.

“That's my line!” Jed objected, as they lowered him onto the bed.

“Yes, well, someone has to take up the slack while you're ill,” the Doctor said, kicking off his shoes. “Roll over.”

Jed flopped over onto his stomach so quickly and willingly it made Rose laugh. The Doctor straddled Jed's hips and slipped his hands under Jed's shirt so he could begin massaging Jed's back muscles. Rose took the opportunity to change out of her less-comfortable work clothes and into a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms.

When she joined the others on the bed, Jed was practically melting under the Doctor's capable hands. “Doing better?” she asked Jed quietly as she lay down beside him, brushing a bit of hair away from his forehead.

“Yep,” he mumbled, followed by what might have been,“home,” just before he fell asleep.


End file.
